A Baby and Lots of Birds-Spring is Here!

This last week was a big week in our lives--we celebrated our halfway point of pregnancy (20 weeks!), and on Thursday of last week we had the big ultrasound! What a trippy--and incredible--experience that was! It felt so good to see our little baby and to hear that everything looks great. And we found out that Baby Sherburne is a girl! It was all extremely exciting. I've had mixed feelings about all of the technology and wondering if it is necessary; since we're going the "natural" route (at a birth center with a midwife), I have been reading all kinds of natural pregnancy books, which often talk down on the ultrasound and question its safety. But I have to say, I am so grateful to have had it. It was an unspeakable joy to see our child, moving around inside of me, all bundled up, and most importantly, healthy. Throughout my pregnancy so far, I have found myself wanting to be one of those women who trusts that everything is fine, doesn't worry, knows that her body is capable of carrying a child, feels a total connection to the baby from day one, and thus feels no need for any technological interventions. I, however, am not. I have worried a lot, wondered why I didn't feel the baby earlier, been scared that I hurt her when I woke up on my back (I really have to wonder if women have always known that they shouldn't sleep on their backs during pregnancy), etc., etc. Point being, it was an incredible relief to see the little girl and hear that things are going well, and I am very grateful that the ultrasound technology is available. And ever since the ultrasound I have worried a lot less. I now am thinking more and more about birth and getting to welcome her into our life! Her due date is coming on fast all of the sudden, the reality of having a child soon is setting in, and Ryan and I could not be more excited.

Here is our beautiful little girl!

The experience of being pregnant during the spring is so unique and beautiful. The smells, sounds, and sensations that indicate that spring has finally arrived feel so much more intense to me this year. I feel almost intoxicated when I step outside and hear a chorus of birds singing. Right now I can hear a robin calling out from the window behind me. It's just joyful, and there's really no other way to describe it. Sitting in our living room today we watched black-capped chickadees, a red-breasted nuthatch, house finches, and dark-eyed juncos feeding on the seed on our deck; flickers, mourning doves, robins, and a pair of Black-billed magpies foraging in our yard; and Canada geese honking loudly and flying in Vs overhead. We saw red-winged blackbirds at my parent's house (another iconic spring bird in this area), and watched a Cooper's hawk cruise casually over our heads as the sun was setting. We have been seeing killdeer at the river, as well as the stunning belted kingfisher and the regal great blue heron.  And today, we saw a flock of about five Mountain bluebirds! No sign of the Eastern bluebirds since the day after my last sighting, but I was thrilled to see the Mountain bluebirds have arrived. The waxy buds on the cottonwoods are slowly starting to swell, and surely the smell that goes along with their blossoming will arrive soon. The black hawthorns are revealing their deep red buds as well. Spring has truly arrived, and even in time for the equinox this year.

Here are some photos from the last week, starting with the Mountain bluebirds we saw today. Enjoy!

Such incredible color in contrast with the still-bare branches of the hawthorn!

The all-blue chest is unique to the Mountain bluebird.

A dark-eyed junco on our deck.

A female house finch.

A gorgeous great blue heron.

Diving for a fish! Patience pays off (for both me and the heron!).

After the dive--you can see the chest feathers puffed out.

O.K., not a bird, but our really adorable cat, Zeppie;)

Eastern Bluebird!

Today on a walk I was just about to turn around when I saw a bird perched on a fencepost. My first thought was "bluebird!", but then I quickly doubted myself. It was chilly and windy at the river and one of those days where, while spring was still on my mind, it felt more like late winter than early spring. Wondering what the bird was, I zoomed in with my camera, and you can probably guess by now what I saw--the striking and brilliant blue wings that flash across meadows all summer, but are especially vibrant on gray days like today, surrounded by dull buff grasses. I was able to get closer for some better photos, and I stood and watched the group of four zipping from the tips of dried mullein flowers to the ends of low, bare branches, to the fence posts nearby. I can't begin to explain the joy I felt by simply seeing and hearing these beautiful Eastern Bluebirds for the first time since last fall. To me, the bluebird has always meant spring, which is one of the reasons I love them so much...the other being obvious; their remarkable beauty. The map on the link above indicates that Eastern Bluebirds don't make it as far as Missoula, and that they don't arrive in Montana until May. I am not sure how long I've been seeing them or even if I saw an Eastern Bluebirds on the Bitterroot last summer (I need to keep a better naturalist journal, apparently!), but I know that I saw some last year, somewhere. I am curious about if this is rare or if this is a changing migration patter, maybe due to climate change or the unusually mild winter we had. Either way, it was such a delight to see!

A male and female Eastern Bluebird.

A male Eastern Bluebird in flight.

Eastern Bluebird males, unlike the more common to Missoula all-blue Mountain Bluebird, has a gorgeous red chest.

A few details about Eastern Bluebirds: they feed primarily on insects and while they naturally nest in cavities made by woodpeckers, they rely heavily on bluebird next boxes, as do the Western and Mountain Bluebirds. The bluebird nest boxes have helped their populations which are threatened by the non-native House Sparrow, who kill and remove bluebird eggs and nestlings from their nests in order to take over the bluebirds' nests. Eastern Bluebirds nest and feed in open fields, prairies, and meadows and are most often seen flying from perches and swooping down to catch insects.

A Northern Flicker, who was perched quietly on the post next to the bluebird, caught in mid-flight.

I hope you are all able to see the newly arrived bluebirds as well! And I'd love to hear about sightings, especially if anyone has seen any Mountain Bluebirds yet. Happy Spring!

Staying

This morning when I took Eiger outside I was absolutely entranced by the amazing songs and calls of all of the recently-invigorated birds surrounding our home. I have been waking up every morning in recent weeks to the clear and beautiful song of the American Robin, and the delightful (non-native) house sparrow (by the way, make sure to listen to the audio on this link of the birds calls of specific species from the Montana Field Guide website--it's what makes this site). In the trees of the house next to ours were the equally sweet calls of house finches, and exploring every inch of the bark just above the finches was a male of one of the smaller woodpeckers, the downy. Across the street the loud and monotonous call of a flicker pulled my attention to the top of an extremely tall cottonwood where it was busily snacking in a well-established cavity. These are all lovely year-round birds that I love, but I'm chomping at the bit to see and hear more of the spring-returnees! I will be going to one of my favorite birding spots, Council Grove, this weekend to see what I can find. I am officially a full-fledged (pun intended) and whole-hearted lover of birds. Nothing brings forth the childlike wonder in me than hearing a familiar call and searching through the trees or bushes or stream side in search of the amazing creature making that call. I am so grateful to live somewhere where I can step outside and experience this kind of life. And I am SO happy it is turning to spring!

Along those lines, Ryan and I are leaning heavily toward staying in Lolo. This whole process of looking at beautiful apartments and condos in town has left me with a feeling that while it would be convenient and "nice," there would be a void in my heart without the closeness of nature we now enjoy. Being pregnant has definitely kicked me into nesting gear, and for a while I thought that meant that I want a nice, new home. Now I'm realizing it really means that I want a sense of security, somewhere I know I am going to feel at home, and a place that makes my heart feel full. We will fix up the trailer we're living in or move into another place close to where we live if something comes up. I am feeling a huge sense of relief at this realization. I am too bound to place to live in suburbia right now.

Enjoy this gorgeous day by getting outside and listening to the birdsong. I'd love to hear about birds that you have seen or heard lately since so many are starting to return to Montana, so please share!

A Gorgeous Sunday

What a day it has been today--it was 60 degrees and there was barely a cloud in the sky all day. We spent the first part of the day looking at new places, which I have very mixed feelings about. I really, really don't want to leave this incredible spot, but I also want to live somewhere where I feel that it will be better, and safer, for a baby. The trailer we live in has been great for us, but it's really old and run down, not secure at all, it's really hard to keep the temperature in the house comfortable, and frankly we would just like a cleaner, well maintained place for the baby! But regardless of what we decide, a big part of my heart is here and it would be very hard to not have the Bitterroot right down the road from us. I'm so grateful that we've been able to live in this incredible location for the last year! I will keep everyone updated on what we decide, but whatever we decide, I won't stop coming to this beautiful place.

I spent the second half of the day walking and birding on the banks of the river. It's hard to even describe what a day like this can do for the psyche after a long, dark winter. I feel invigorated and excited about more days like this to come. The male chickadee are starting to sing their spring song (p.s., this site is great if you're interested in what different chickadee calls and songs mean!). But the persistent repetitive calls of the red-breasted nuthatch and white-breasted nuthatch echoed above the calls and songs of all the other vociferous birds. I have been seeing hairy woodpeckers almost every day now, and today was no exception--these three species were traveling together, as they do in the winter. A true sign from nature that spring isn't quite here. I've also been catching glimpses of one of my all time favorite birds, the belted kingfisher a lot lately. But he moves so quickly I can never catch a photo! One of these days I hope to share with all of you a lovely photo of this particular male.

Another female hairy woodpecker.

A noisy red-breasted nuthatch in mid-call.

After my lovely walk with Eiger we headed to my parent's house to say hello. I spent some time with the horses after a winter of a lot of negligence! They were happy to have my company.

Ali doesn't let her visitors get far from her, while Hope and Gimpy always keep a little bit of distance.

I know it will snow again, and I welcome the snow. But today was such a joy, and a reminder of how much easier a smile is to come by when the sun is shining. I will keep this day in my back pocket as a warm companion for the remainder of the cold days to come.

A Long Overdue Update

The last week or so I have had the taste of spring in my mouth--it may be a little early (it's still quite wintery here), but signs are starting to appear. I saw a flock of robins on a particularly sunny day last week, and while I've actually been seeing the occasional robin all winter, the sheer number of them perched on every tree around us in groups of fifty to one hundred, all the while the air being filled with their noisy and jubilant calls, seemed like the first true sign of warmth and longer days to come. The sun felt like spring that day, too...warmer and more direct than it had all winter. And it almost qualifies as a miracle that I am coming home from work in the light of day now! Needless to say, I'm excited about this turn of season, but trying to remain patient, too. Seasons don't respond to anyone's desires, and that is most definitely true in Montana. I will enjoy the flurries of snow and the chill of the lingering winter wind, but I would be lying if I said that I am not anxiously watching the buds on trees and sniffing the air for the sweet scent of cottonwood for the real signs of spring to reveal themselves.

I must admit that the cold of winter and the lethargy brought on by it, and I suppose feeling ill and almost constantly tired from pregnancy, has made me a bit unengaged in my usual interest in keeping track of the daily changes in nature, and specifically, in our place. I am into my second trimester now and feeling a lot more energetic, and it just so happens that ice isn't covering the entire trail on the river anymore. So this is my unofficial vow to reengage myself! Hopefully that means more updates on the blog, too, but it at least means more sketches and writing in my naturalist journal. There is something about the newness of leaves and flowers, the birds that return after a winter away, and the smells and colors and feelings that accompany spring that invigorate my love for being outside. This is definitely not a unique phenomenon, I realize, but it's something I have observed in myself and hope that I can use as motivation to remain more committed to my naturalist studies and to immersing myself in nature in the winter as well.

As I mentioned, the ice is mostly gone on the river path now, so we have been taking our regular walks there again. I didn't stop walking down there completely this winter, but my relative absence has been obvious to me in being amazed by the dramatic way things have changed. The beaver(s) who hangs out there has been extremely busy. Remember from a previous post the tree I took a picture of that a beaver had gone to town on? Now it has gone to town on most of the mid-sized circumference trees along the river.

Pretty impressive, huh? I wish I could sneak up on he/she/them and watch this efficient work going down! I wonder how long it took to make this much progress? That's exactly why it's so important to go back to the same place regularly...like, really regularly. When you don't the story doesn't unfold, instead you're thrown into the middle of it. Lesson learned, right?

I've been seeing lots of bald eagles lately. Driving from Coeur d' Alene to Missoula last weekend I watched several fly right over my car and perch on a tree along the Clark Fork. Year-round residents, woodpeckers, have been a constant all winter as well. On every walk I have taken  this winter I have heard the familiar knocking and thumping high on a tree and looked up to see red-naped sapsuckers, downy woodpeckers, hairy woodpeckers, or pileated woodpeckers. Today we came across a downy woodpecker nearly at the top of an enormous cottonwood.

Not the greatest pic, but as I said, she was really high up this tree! It's like "Where's Waldo"...can you see her in there?

A herd of white-tailed deer were grazing up on the hillside across the river today--they spend a lot of time over there in the fall, but I haven't seen large group of them there in a while. I'm not sure if I just haven't been looking enough, or if they haven't been using that hillside as often this winter for whatever reason.

I'll end on a story that unfortunately I didn't get to experience myself but that I heard about first on The Pea Green Boat (a great children's program on Montana Public Radio from 4-5 every day) and then I read about shortly after in the Independent. In Polson a week or two ago there was an unusual phenomenon that occurred called an "irruption" of snowy owls. This basically means, quoting from the article, "...a sudden, unpredictable mass movement of individuals into an area where they're uncommon" (Christine Nealson from "Winged Irruption" in Missoula Independent, Vol. 23, No. 8). These owls came all the way from the Arctic, and scientists are not exactly sure why. There is speculation that there has been a lemming population dive, leading the owls to travel long distances for new sources of food (the lemming is the primary source of food). But others believe that it is in fact an overpopulation of lemmings has allowed snowy owl populations to increase dramatically, pushing the "extra" birds out of the Arctic to search for food in other places. Irruptions have apparently been extraordinarily common this winter, owls showing up in the Midwest and Mountain West instead of only in their areas where they typically occur: the Northwest, Northeast, and British Columbia. Overall, they have been traveling much further south this year. Who knows what's going on. While it may be cause for concern, I also find it to be some sort of beautiful wonder of nature. I have never seen a snowy owl and only wish I would have known about this in time to go see them, but just the thought of an "irruption" fills me with awe. And while there's no replacement for direct experience, I am grateful that even those wonders of nature that I have never experienced personally I still get to learn about through the many amazing naturalists around the world. This is to say, we should all share our observations and learn from one another--"professional" naturalist or not. It's one of the great gifts of being a lover of nature.

Potential

After seven long weeks of trying to keep it quiet, I'm finally coming out with the news (that maybe isn't news to most of the people reading this)--Ryan and I are going to have a baby! It still kind of takes my breath away when I see it written. I haven't been blogging much because I've been extraordinarily busy, but also because pregnancy is about the only thing I think about, and I've been trying to keep it quiet until now. I'm due in the first week or so of August; summertime baby, like both myself and Ryan. Pregnancy has been the most transformative, difficult, and exciting experience I have ever had, and I'm only now just starting the second-third of the whole thing. I can't even imagine what is to come (but hopefully it's more of the exciting and transformative and less of the difficult!).

It hasn't been exactly pleasant up until this point--my body is like completely new territory. I am gradually growing and widening in all kinds of places, I'm sick every day (what did it feel like to not be nauseous?!), I have to rest halfway up a flight of stairs, and well, the amount of worrying I have been doing is more than a little absurd. That's just to name a few things...the list of maladies could go on much longer if I wanted to bore you. I also don't want to sound like I want pity, because I don't. Just venting, I suppose. But I will say, despite the discomfort, the sense of wonder that has come along with growing life inside of me is beyond describing. Yesterday, Ryan and I got the chance to see the baby in an ultrasound, and the most amazing part? He or she was kicking up a storm--the power behind those kicks reminded me of our dog laying on his side running wildly in a deep sleep. We were even able to hear the baby's heart beat, and the best way I can describe it is like the sound of horses galloping. It was incredible getting to hear and see our baby. So much happening in that little body; so much life! There is a living, growing, heart-beating, kicking, thumb-sucking being inside of me, and as one of my best friends in the world, Becca said to me when I told her I was pregnant, "you're like a bundle of potential!" I've never felt this to be more true in my life, and for good reason.

One thing that has been a fascinating exploration for me during pregnancy is yoga. I am doing yoga most days, but much, much less of it because I get so darn tired so fast. And that I need to be o.k. with, as long as I don't fall into a habit of not doing it "because I don't feel well." I've started doing prenatal yoga because it feels appropriate now, and to experience the way my body has changed in poses that are so familiar from yoga pre-pregnancy is nothing short of radical. It's like I have a new body with the same parts. No more big grandiose poses for me--at least not in the more superficial sense--just the basics with a great deal more attention to my body and the growing body inside of me. It's really pretty cool. As one teacher said in a YogaGlo prenatal class I took the other day, "It took me some time to realize that I can do a thousand chaturangas when I'm not pregnant." That struck me, as I had been starting to feel frustrated with the lack of handstands and deep backbends I have done since I've been pregnant. That statement made me remember: Yoga isn't handstands and deep backbends. The physical practice of yoga takes on an endless number of forms that are appropriate at different times in your life. More importantly, yoga is not just asana. Yoga is much deeper than asana, and has other branches that are all equally important, and sometimes stepping back a little from the asana practice can help yogis/yoginis like myself remember that truth. My yoga practice seems to always provide me with the growth and learning about myself and life that I need at the moment, as long as I am able to be truly open to what it is currently meant to teach me. As long as I am Open to Grace. Recently, yoga has been helping me to truly understand the wisdom of stepping back and seeing the bigger picture. And again, I am so grateful for this practice!

Pregnancy is a process of so much learning and evolving. Every day there is something about myself that I have never questioned before--parts of my life, my personality, my persona, that I previously just blindly accepted as me--that gets turned on its head. It's not just the potential for the creation of another being that is so beautiful about pregnancy, but the potential for living with more wisdom and more Light that is so very beautiful about pregnancy. Much more to come!

Onward!

I have kind of been avoiding writing, if you haven't noticed...not because things aren't good...actually, things are great. Mostly because our beloved dog, Lila, passed away on Christmas Eve and it's been too fresh until now to write about it. But with time, I am less sad and more grateful. I will keep it brief and say this: Lila was truly the most loving, devoted, and spirited little dog I have ever known. I will miss her deeply, but I will always feel her presence here with me. And I am eternally grateful for the amazing care that my mother gave to her in the end of her life. In a time when I wanted to spend every waking moment with her and my life would not let me, my mom did exactly that--she gave her constant love, provided her with all kinds of medical care that allowed her to stick around a bit longer, and even though it was emotionally and physically exhausting, my mom stuck with her until Lila was ready to go. The way she does with all of our animals. So thank you, Mom, from the bottom of my heart. And Lila, I will love you so very much, forever.

My journey now for this coming year is to move steadily onward. I have lots to look forward to this year and that will be my focus. We ended the year in East Glacier where, like here, there is a strikingly miniscule amount of snow. But where snow was lacking, family made up for it. In true Sherburne style, there were 18 of us in all...and we spent every dinner together (which means at least four hours of wining, dining and chatting), and a lot of our days together as well. It was relaxing, beautiful, and just lovely altogether. I've missed that place deeply--truly, in a way I've never missed a place--it made its way into my heart the first year I moved there and has not budged since then.

Eiger, Ebie, and Baxter, happy, happy, happy!

Some of the Sherburne clan on a nice walk towards Two Medicine.

Ryan's amazing grandma, Doris, 92 years old, and two of her sons--such a sweet photo:)

Skiing with the fam at Essex.

Since we returned home, it's truly been like spring here in Lolo and Missoula. The weather is weird, to say the least, but I think it's safe to say that despite the lack of snow, the sunshine has been pretty marvelous for everyone who lives in this valley that is usually dark, heavy, and icy by this time of year. Walks on the river have revealed all kinds of amazing bird life--winter feeding flocks including Pileated woodpeckers, red-naped sapsuckers, black-capped chickadees, red-breasted nuthatches, and pygmy nuthatches. One day Ryan, Eiger, and I had a bald eagle circling us for literally four or five minutes, as if it was considering one of us as prey (but I'd rather think it was just a good omen). The next day I had a red-tailed hawk circling above me and calling for a good two or three minutes. Spectacular. The paler winter golden finches have been gathering at our finch sock to feed, and flocks of black-capped chickadees have been stopping briefly at the bare tree in front of our deck. Unfortunately I have continuously forgotten my camera in these moments, but sometimes the mind is the best place to hold a beautiful sight, so I'm content with it (though I'll try to bring my camera next time so I can share these beautiful sights with you all!).

On another note, my New Year's Resolution this year is to explore my creativity with a fearless curiosity for expression. I happened upon this "30 Day Photography Challenge," which Ryan and I have turned into a kind of contest, and I'm having fun with it so far. Check it out! Onward! And Happy New Year to all of you.